The Toll of War
by neonorne
Summary: Sirius fights for the Order in the first war against Voldemort. It's no picnic. It's DEs and Inferi, wounded friends, an unexpected werewolf change, a Muggle orphan, a grieving Molly - and a possible spy in the Order. M for war descriptions and swearing.
1. After the Battle

_Disclaimer_: These characters and their universe belong to J.K Rowling. I just borrow them for my dreams. I make no money off them.

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**THE TOLL OF WAR**

**After the Battle**

Smoke hangs low over the small Muggle village nestled in the midst of rolling hills and downs. The smell of burning wood and burnt human flesh penetrates everything. Sickening, weakening, unavoidable.

The battle is won. The enemy is dead or stunned; a few have fled. Now come the cruel tasks of the aftermath: sort through the corpses to find the survivors who may still be saved if given immediate treatment. Separate the recent dead that must be buried from the Inferi that must be disarmed with a countercurse so the desecrated bodies won't rise again.

They don't have the time. They must be off within the hour; the escaped Death Eaters may summon reinforcement. Giants are rumoured to be on the move in the not too distant mountains.

The surviving Muggles huddle inside the few houses that are still standing. When the Order arrived at the scene the Death Eaters had already used Confunding spells to render the Muggles helpless, unable to escape or defend themselves. Unable to understand what attacked them. Now the Order must leave them to take care of their own dead. Use their own inferior knowledge to make sense of what hit them.

Their version of events will in all likelihood feature nothing but a ravenous fire spreading through the village. After the Confunding spells have lifted, they will not understand their own blurry memories. Attacking corpses and battling men in robes throwing red and green light beams at each other? Do not compute. Do not exist.

But they will see them again in their dreams and call them nightmares. Nightmares will be the only surplus in this village for many months to come.

If need be, if dangerous talk spreads from this place, someone will have to come back and modify the Muggle memories. But this is not the time to worry about the Statute of Secrecy.

Sirius has come out on top. Again. But this time he's seriously shaken. Not from a few close shaves. But from his first Inferi encounter.

He was paralyzed, not able to lift his wand or move at all. He recognised the attacking corpses; he _knew_ them: The recently killed Prewett brothers. Who welcomed him when he first entered the Order. Who made him feel worthy, grown up, fit to fight alongside them.

Sheer luck is the reason he's still alive. Alastor Moody came up from behind, fended off the dead and slapped Sirius back into action.

He's not hurt. A few scratches is all. And his hands are blistered - he dragged two men out of a burning house. Too late, they were both already dead. But he can heal simple burns. It's OK. He's OK.

His hands tremble as he uses first the right, then the left to tap the scorched spots on his fingers with his wand. The burning pain subsides and his hands are again smooth and supple. Healed. But they do not cease to tremble.

He must find his friends. Must know they are OK.

Peter. Moony. James - he must know James is not down. When he charged in at the ravaging Death Eaters, James was right behind. But in the fray of battle, Sirius lost sight of him.

'You OK, Pads?'

Moony. Sirius spins round to look at his friend. He seems fine: pale, exhausted, dirty, stained with soot and blood - but he stands. He talks. He's not bleeding, not crouching from pain, not disfigured from some unspeakable Death Eater curse.

'Yeah, I'm fine,' Sirius answers. 'You?'

Lupin nods. His eyes seem dead; he sways slightly on his feet.

'Peter's down,' he says.

'No! How - where is he? Where?'

Lupin puts a hand on Sirius' arm.

'It's OK Padfoot, he's not dead. He's breathing. Marlene has him - she's collecting the wounded. Over there,' Lupin nods at the centre of the village.

Sirius sees limp bodies spread out on the ground. Marlene McKinnon and Alastor Moody walk among them, bend down to look at or talk to or try to heal one after the other of them. And then someone comes limping up to the place from the other side of the village, supporting someone at her side.

Lily. Supporting James. Who is maybe wounded, maybe needs help, but walks.

Sirius rushes towards his best friend. He doesn't look back to see whether Moony follows.

James is alive. They are both still here.

When Sirius is up close, James gives him a faint smile.

'I'm OK Padfoot, I'm OK,' he says. 'Moony, hi. Good to see both of you still standing up.''

'James. Lily - are you OK?' Moony breathes behind Sirius.

'Still standing up, too, as you can see,' she says. 'Moody, you must look at his right arm!'

Alastor Moody has come up to them. He makes no comments before he starts to finger James down his injured arm. James flinches, but doesn't give up his strained smile.

Sirius steps forward to help Lily hold him up.

James' right sleeve is shrivelled and his skin exposed. It's revolting: reddish black, raw and pulsing. His veins lie as thin, blue cables down his arm. This is not a burn. This is a curse.

Moody frowns.

'I can't heal this,' he says. 'Your skin's turned inside out. It's a bad curse, one of the worst. You need an expert healer, a curse specialist - and soon, if you're not to loose your arm. Or worse.'

'St. Mungo's,' Lily states, a grim, set look on her face. 'James, can you concentrate enough to disapparate? I'll follow.'

'No!' Moody exclaims. 'Not St. Mungo's! It's infiltrated. None of us will be safe there! Go to Hogwarts. Dumbledore is there and will know - you will be met at the gates as soon as you ring the bell -'

'There's no expert on curses at Hogwarts!' Lily exclaims.

'We'll get one there. Dearborn's got a safe contact at St. Mungo's, he's already gone to alert her and bring her to Hogwarts. They'll set up a makeshift infirmary in the dungeons. Don't argue, get there _now_. He won't last much longer like this.'

Sirius feels his friend weaken at his side, about to buckle and sink to the ground.

'He's too weak to disapparate!' he shouts. 'He'll splinch!'

'I'll take him.'

Lily shifts to get a better hold on James' good arm. But Moody shakes his head.

'You don't have enough skill for side-along. Neither of you. He's too weak; he won't be able to help by holding on to you. Fail at your concentration one split of a second and you'll lose him. Then he may be worse off than splinching. You may never find him again. I'll take him.'

Moody doesn't wait for arguments. He eases James out of Lily's and Sirius' arms, takes one step forward and is gone.

Lily and Sirius stand empty-handed, staring at each other. Behind him Moony must be in shock; Sirius hears the ragged, gulping breath of his friend. And Lily looks like she's about to buckle herself.

Sirius wants to ask her if she's wounded, too. But then Lily's eyes widen. Terror wells up in her eyes.

'Sirius!' she shouts. 'Look! Look at the sky, you must -'

But she chokes. Sirius pivots and sees the face of his friend against the paling afternoon sky.

Lupin has gone pallid; his skin is blotching. He is shaking; his face is moving, and not from any ordinary twitch. Behind him, a ghostly, whitish globe is about to take its leave of the horizon.

He is changing. It's that time of the month and Lupin has forgotten. Sirius must get him out of here, now.


	2. The Rule of the Moon

Disclaimer: Characters and Universe still belong to J.K. Rowling. I just borrow...

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**The Rule of the Moon**

There is no time to plan or even to think. Lupin should have placed himself inside secure walls in good time before the rise of the full moon. But now a ghost of the moon is in the sky and Lupin is still here. Sirius sees the change but can't bring his friend to safety. Alastor Moody is right: he can't do side-along apparition. What if Moony completes his change in mid-apparition? They may both be dead on arrival.

Sirius charges into his friend, pushing hard, and Moony staggers sideways. He turns to try and stabilise himself, but tumbles forwards and falls to the ground behind the nearby burnt out Muggle house. His legs stick out from behind the smouldering wall and Sirius sees the turn: Kicking human feet fading into the dreaded fur and claw of the wolf.

One last look at Lily, the only witness. She stares back, pale and concerned, then nods and leaves. She will do her best to divert attention; Sirius counts on it. He leaps at the wolf behind the wall and when he hits the ground he is no longer fully human.

The shock of the dog's senses. The dimming of vision, the loss of colours, the impossible enhancing of hearing and smell. Smell turned tangible, overpowering; it defines everything and rules the world. A changed world; the dog's world.

The cruel smells of war dominate all and for a dangerous moment Sirius' resolve is weakened. The stench of blood; the reek of vomit, faeces, rotting corpses. The smell of smoke, fat from all that has burned or boiled or melted. The sickening odour of roasted human flesh. And underneath it all, faint, but insistent and disturbing: the smell of human sweat. The victors, the victims and the captured all pour out hormones of fear, of anger and pain and despair, urging the dog that now governs more than half of Sirius' mind to either flee or attack.

But under him the werewolf moves and snarls. His human core takes charge. Sirius knows he has only a short span of time when he has the advantage. The immediate effect of the werewolf turn is confusion and pain. He must act before the monster has fully taken over. Sirius locks his jaws over the werewolf's neck and sinks his teeth deep into its skin.

_Not too deep!_ Sirius the man urges Sirius the dog. _It's Moony! Don't kill him!_

These were always the dangerous moments of their werewolf experience. After the confusion, before the recognition. The ferocious werewolf blinded by blood lust, ready to bite and tear at anyone within its range. Its bite will not pass the werewolf curse on to Sirius in his dog form. But it may still kill him. Bleed him to death, tear his flesh, crush his bones. Werewolf fangs and claws are for real, and deadlier than those of a normal wolf.

He knows he may fail. May not be able to control the wolf for Moony. James was always there before; together they could do it. Fend off the monster long enough for the wolf to recognise their smell and welcome their company. Padfoot and Prongs, the heavy mongrel and the well-antlered stag. But now Sirius is on his own.

He cannot give in and let go of his bite. No matter how hard the wolf thrashes and claws. The dog in him growls and starts to drag the kicking, fighting wolf away from the houses, out into the surrounding field. The hey is not harvested; the tall straws will offer some cover. Those left at the scene of battle may think it is only a dogfight, violent but normal, and will not concern themselves. They've got more pressing matters at hand; that's what they will think. That's what Sirius hopes they will think.

He is thrashed around, knocked against the ground. But he doesn't let go. The wolf is maybe the stronger in all its insanity. But as long as Sirius has his teeth sunk into its neck, it cannot really get at him.

Sirius focuses his whole mind and will on his mongrel jaws. They stand the test. The wolf is not rid of him. Blood starts flowing into his mouth and rouses the dog's killer instinct. He must keep his human will on top, keep the dog's tearing, ripping, crunching urges down.

The wolf slacks its fighting efforts. Powerful ripples run along its whole form; it whimpers. Sirius can't help it. The man in him lets up and the wolf escapes.

It must not charge into the village, in among the dead and the wounded. The surviving Order members will show it no mercy. Sirius lets loose the dog inside and chases after the wolf, growling and snarling. They tear across the fields and into the woodland hills; the wolf winning ahead.

But it is still bleeding from the wound in its neck. Sirius can follow its trail by the smell of fresh blood alone. Half way up the hill the wolf starts to slow down. Near the top it staggers to the ground and is down.

Sirius approaches warily. The wolf still holds his head up and eyes him keenly, giving out low warning snarls. The blood glistens in its fur and pools on the ground beneath its paws.

The wound is too deep. If not attended to, his friend Moony will bleed to death. Sirius can stem the blood and probably heal the wound - but he will need his wand.

He risks it; he changes back to human form and brings out his wand. But it's a mistake. The wolf gathers what is left of its strength and leaps. Sirius turns dog by pure instinct and bounds away. The wolf chases, but cannot keep it up.

It is very weak, too weak; it folds down into a heap of limbs. Its head lolls to the ground, its panting turns uneven and loud. Sirius stands up human and there is a twitch of a reaction in the wolf. But that is all.

It is dying. _Moony_ is on the ground dying, and Sirius doesn't have his wand.

Whenever he changes into his animagus form, everything he wears on his body will change with him. Clothes, wand, wallet - everything kept safely on him will partake in the magical transformation. But anything he _holds_ will drop from his changing hands and be left behind.

He had his wand out the last time he changed. Holding it. Now it is gone. He is not even sure where it was left behind. With a chasing werewolf at his heels, he didn't pay attention to where he was running. And even if he could find the place, he may not be able to discern his wand on the ground anymore. Dusk comes creeping out from under the skirts of the bushes and the trees.

The wolf starts to breathe in rasping gulps. Sirius is in near panic. He draws in his own breath sharply and senses the smell of blood even by his human nose.

Padfoot will find the wand. Sirius changes back and snuffles down the hill, backtracking the trail of the running dog and wolf. The blood trail leads him straight to the place where the werewolf first buckled, and there is his wand lying in the heather. Smelling of himself, Sirius the man. Confusing as always, but not enough to throw him now.

Sirius is back and stands over the werewolf as a man, alerted to the smallest sign of danger. But there is no threat left in the beast. Sirius can lean in, even turn the wolf's head over to expose its wounds. This provokes some feeble, snapping twitches in it's jaws. But that is all.

The punctures from the canine teeth are not wide, but they must be deep. Blood oozes out of them and soon covers Sirius' hand. He works his wand, but is too shaky to get the movements right. He must stand up, draw breath, steady himself.

Forget it is Moony on the ground. This is just an exercise. A demonstration in a DADA class, Charms class - fucking _Care of Magical Creatures_ class! This is nothing.

He leans down again, holds the wolf's head up. Focuses on the wounds alone.

This time he can do it. The blood trickles and stops. The wounds close. Sirius adds a few invigorating spells, then carefully lays the wolf's head back onto the ground.

He slumps down in the heather next to his monster friend and hangs his head. He is exhausted, but cannot relax or sleep. The sun is down and the moon has come into her own, shining grand and yellow through the branches of the trees.

He could do more to strengthen the wolf. More healing spells, and he could hunt for food - Padfoot the dog could find mice, voles, maybe birds - even rabbits. Moony could use some meat after all his blood loss.

But it would be dangerous. Trying too hard to help his friend under the moon will only strengthen the werewolf. If it attacks again, there is no telling who would win. They must wait it out till the moon is down.

The wolf lies on its side with its legs stretched out. It no longer pants. It breathes, maybe weakly, but normally. Sirius sits with wand in hand, keeping watch, jerking himself awake each time his head nods towards sleep. Ready to go into action at any sign of change in the wolf. Invigorating spells if it turns weaker. Merlin knows what kind of spell or action if it turns stronger and leaps.

His only consolation is that the moon rose early. This means it will set before dawn. Sirius will not have to keep vigil the whole night through.

Padfoot wakes to a cold dawn. Mist floats in between the trees and in it hints of smoke and human carnage are still discernible to a dog's sense of smell. But now the smells of the wild overrule the smells of yesterday's battle: pine, foliage, fermenting leaves on the forest floor; heather, mushroom, small scurrying animals. There's a non-smoke magical fire; Sirius can smell the flames and feel the faint prickling of magic in his fur.

And Moony. There are still hints of blood and soot and fatigue about him, but mostly there's just Moony, the strong familiar scent of his friend. He is moving about nearby, trying to be silent, but not silent enough for a dog's sense of hearing.

Sirius turns from the world of nose and ears to the world of vision, and sits up as a man. He watches Lupin carrying a wooden bowl of water to the fire. Lupin gives him a smile when he notices Sirius is awake. A tired, embarrassed smile.

'Morning,' he says. 'Thought I should make us some tea. There's thyme growing around here...'

Sirius nods and scratches himself. He's a bit icky from dog sleep; he could use a bath. Moony is pale and his movements are slow. But he looks fine.

It was after midnight before the moon set and Sirius could safely tend to his friend. Running as Padfoot after the wolf, he had sensed the smell of water nearby. When it was safe to work magic he could easily transfigure some roots into a vessel and fetch water from the small brook running down the hill. He held up Moony's head and bothered him to drink. Then he let Padfoot loose on a midnight hunt to ferret out a rabbit from its hole. He skinned and roasted his kill by spellwork, not wanting to risk a fire in the dark and draw possible enemy attention. Some escaped Death Eaters might still be lurking in the hills. Sirius is no expert in cooking spells. But he can make things at least edible with a wand.

It took a while to get the meat into his friend. Still very weak from blood loss, Moony couldn't keep the first bites down. But Sirius patiently fed him, one small morsel at a time, until he had downed at least a quarter of the animal. Then Sirius wrapped Moony up in both their cloaks and snuggled close to his back in dog form. To keep them both warm through the night.

Liquids, food, sleep have worked their magic on his friend. Now Lupin looks about the same as he did right after the battle. Wan but walking. Sirius did manage to get him safely through the werewolf change. Moony has survived the dog attack with no lasting damage, and the werewolf didn't hurt anybody. Chances are good no one but Lily noticed.

James. James will be OK. He must be. Moody had him; he'll be at Hogwarts now, with Dumbledore and an expert healer. Can't be much better than that. And Peter - if they couldn't fix him at the battlefield, they would have brought him to the makeshift Hogwarts infirmary, too. All is well.

Lupin serves his thyme tea. They sit on their cloaks near the pale magical fire and drink. It doesn't taste much.

'OK?' Moony asks as he takes the wooden bowl from Sirius' hand.

'Looks about the colour of a ballerina's pee,' Sirius says. 'And tastes about as much. But it's warm. I like warm. Especially in random hills at dawn, warm is about my favorite.'

Moony doesn't comment. He doesn't drink from the bowl either.

'Listen,' he says, looking down.

_Oh, no,_ Sirius thinks.

'I'm very sorry about all this. I - it shouldn't have happened. I -'

'Oh, shut up,' Sirius says.

'No - I - Listen, I know you are more about forgetting than

forgiving. And I appreciate that. A lot, believe me. But l want to say this for my own sake. So please hear me out. It is _my_ duty to protect everyone against the werewolf. And I didn't forget - I knew last night was full moon night. Normally, I isolate myself the whole day before full moon night -'

'I know. It's OK, Moony, forget it.'

'No, it isn't OK. And I won't forget it. I can't. Please, I need you to listen. OK? I was about to do that yesterday morning as well. Isolate myself. But when the summons came - Dearborn apparating into headquarters begging for reinforcement - so many of them at a rampage in that Muggle village, with so few of us to hold them back - I thought - every wand is needed, and it will be safe, it will be OK, it will be over before evening...'

_Except you could have been wounded at noon already and unable to disapparate anywhere in the __evening_ Sirius thinks. But he doesn't say it. Moony is more than capable of beating himself up. He doesn't need any help. Besides, who would want to stay behind when receiving a summons like that? Sirius knows _he_ wouldn't.

'I didn't expect the moon to rise so early,' Lupin continues. 'It's - my only excuse is that I have always isolated myself - or been isolated - in good time before moonrise. I have never actually _seen_ the full moon in the day time sky. I've always been in cellars or securely bolted places with no daylight coming in. When the change happens I usually don't know what time of day it is - but it always _feels _like night time...

'But that's no excuse. I _know_ the moon sometimes rises in the day. I have seen it with the half moon, for instance. It's just that I prefer not to pay too much attention to the moon when I don't have to - but that's no excuse either. I knew yesterday that I went out on a full moon day. And to do that without knowing the exact time of moonrise - I could have hurt you so much, Sirius. And not only you, but so many others as well - I _need_ to tell you I'm sorry. Even if you don't ask me to or even want me to. And I need to assure you - I have learned my lesson. This will never happen again. Ever.'

'Well, that's OK then,' Sirius says.

Of course Moony would never do an unprotected change on purpose. Sirius knows that. And Moony should know he knows. They're friends. Forgiveness comes with the territory - as long as there's no disloyalty involved. So what's the point in harping on about it?

But hopefully, this will be the end of the self-spanking session. He knows hoping for Moony to end the practice for good is too much to ask.

Lupin does look as if he has more to say. Sirius stops him by getting up.

'We'd better report back, or we'll be counted as missing,' he says. 'Maybe we are already.'

Lupin nods and puts out the fire with his wand. No marks of the flames are left on the ground.

'I think I want to walk a bit first,' he says. 'I don't feel like apparating anywhere just yet...'

Sirius nods. There is no need to ask or comment. Soon they are both on their way down the hill.

The morning sun is still too weak to lift the mist. When they reach the fields, the dew soaks their boots and the hem of their cloaks. Sirius is too tired to speak or even to think much. He looks up only occasionally, just enough to find his way.

But suddenly he is jerked awake, all his senses on the alert.

In the sky in front of him, the sick, green glow of the Dark Mark shines through the mist. Only a thin line of trees shields the place of attack from his view.

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**A/N**: I do plan to finish this - I have a reasonable clear idea of where I want it to go. But it won't be this year! ;) **Please review** - it will increase my motivation...


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